The Continuing Story of Us
by VeritaParlata
Summary: Reba and Brock reach a crossroad in their relationship.


The Continuing Story of Us:

Rating: G  
Characters: Reba/Brock  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from _Reba_.

Premise: Reba and Brock reach a crossroad in their relationship.

1.1

A loud thunderstorm brought hard rain and harsh winds crashing against her bedroom window. The lightening that flashed illuminated her darkened room. Every few seconds a flash would go off like her picture was being taken. It kept her awake more than the noise.

Actually, that wasn't true.

What kept her awake more than anything was her thoughts. Thoughts she felt she shouldn't be having. Thoughts she felt she had put in the past.

Unable to sleep, Reba Hart did what she always did. She rose from her bed, placed on her robe and left her room to go downstairs. Walking past the guest bedroom a few doors from hers, she paused. Brock was staying there. Her ex-husband, father of her children, married to another woman Brock, was staying under the same roof as she for the first time since their divorce. She felt a wave of discomfort grip her stomach tightly and continued her trek to the kitchen.

_Kidney stones_, she thought lithely. _Of all the things to put him back under my roof, it's kidney stones_. She rolled her eyes at her snide comments. _No need to get defensive with me, Reba. If you can't be honest with yourself, who can you be honest with?_

Brock was capable enough to go home. In fact, he was going to go home until he nearly doubled over in pain and something took hold of Reba and she told him to stay. Something always took hold of her when Brock was concerned. And for all the bickering and snide remarks she throws his way, she'd never leave him alone while he was in pain. Hell, she'd never leave him alone at all. And it was that thought that had troubled her the most.

Walking into her living room, she saw the kitchen light was on. Gearing up for the motherly words that were sure to flow out of her mouth, she walked into the kitchen with a smirk on her face. "Jake, it's two in the..." her words stopped immediately when she saw that it was Brock instead of their son - whom she had expected.

"I sent him up to bed twenty minutes ago," Brock called over his shoulder. He was leaning over a cup of tea, inhaling the scent.

Reba's breath caught in her chest as embarrassment swelled inside her. She thought he was asleep in the guest room. She wasn't ready to face him yet. Not when her thoughts were so conflicted. And especially not like this. Not with him in his pajamas...wait were those the ones she bought years ago when they were married? _They were. Why would he keep those? _

He looked tired. More tired than she had ever seen. There was a light in his eyes that she had seen and known well since college; it wasn't out completely, but it was dimmed a little. Something weighed heavily on his mind.

It troubled her that she could notice that so quickly even after all that has happened. It troubled her even more that the want and desire to help him was taking hold of her again.

"What are you doing up so late?" Brock asked, turning to face her; silently wondering why she seemed to be frozen in the doorway. He noticed the minuscule amount of fear in her eyes and smiled to appease her.

It took her a minute to find her voice, but when she did, she answered, "Thunderstorm." She walked inside to the refrigerator. She had let him ruin her sleep, she wasn't about to let him ruin her milk and cookies. This was still her house. She was strong; she survived losing him, she could survive this. "What about you? You feelin' okay?" she asked as she pulled out the pitcher of milk.

"Yeah, for now," Brock answered with a gleam in his eyes. He watched her pour the milk and take a box of cookies out the cupboard. He smiled, mostly to himself, as he watched her. Thinking about things he would dare not say. Remembering memories that were dearest to his heart. "Thunderstorms still bother you?" he asked her as she sat down, taking the cookie she offered.

Nodding, "Ever since I was a little girl. When that lightnin' hit my granddaddy's farmhouse and set fire to it. That sound... always takes me back, you know?"

Brock nodded, sadly now, at her. He remembered her telling him that story when they first started to become friends. He was telling her how he had worked as a farmhand one summer as a teen and the information just flowed from her like an overflowing well. He always admired that about her. Reba never had a problem revealing what she was feeling or anything at all really. She wore her heart on her sleeve. An endearing quality if ever he saw one. It made breaking her heart something he'd always regret more than he already did.

Uncomfortable with his silence, for it left her alone with her thoughts, Reba broke it. "You never did answer my question." When Brock turned a confused look her way, "Why are you up so late?"

A sad smile began again to curl the corners of his mouth. "Couldn't sleep," he answered. He looked into her eyes and saw the worry she didn't bother to hide. Even after everything, she still cared. She would still worry about him. "I just kept thinking that this is the first time that I've spent a night in this house since the divorce." He lowered his eyes when he said that, but brought them up to hers again; hoping to see some kind of reaction, but not sure which. "You know that?"

Reba nodded; no harm in admitting that. "Yeah, feels a little weird to me, too."

His face fell a little. "That's the thing; it doesn't feel weird to me."

Reba felt her breath catch. This was definitely not going the way she wanted. She grabbed a cookie and bit into it quickly, taking an extra long time to chew on it; hoping he'd say whatever it was that he had to quickly.

"It feels... kinda like old times," he said and Reba breathed a little easier. "Back when we were married and happy."

So much for easy breathing.

"Brock..." Reba tried to interrupt, but he blazed on.

"Do you remember when we were just married, maybe had been married two months and you came down with that really nasty flu virus?"

"How could I forget, I spit up so much green stuff, you was about to call a priest to perform an exorcism." she let out a laugh. Though it was painful at the time, the memory now was dear to her.

"You kicked me out of our bedroom so I wouldn't catch it," Brock continued on softly. The fond remembrance bringing a bit of sparkle to his eyes.

"No point in both of us being sick. Plus, you were still in school."

Brock nodded and smiled. She had totally missed his point. "You always took care of me, Reba," he pointed it out for her. "Even when we weren't dating and were just friends, you made sure everything in my life was going okay."

Reba was at a loss for words. She wasn't sure where he was headed with this, but she felt it best to let him finish. Besides that, if she tried to speak right now, it would come out jumbled and possibly damage whatever crossroad they were upon.

"I miss that the most," Brock revealed. "I miss our friendship." He raised his eyes to meet hers again, happy when he saw she agreed. "You were my best friend for over twenty years and... when we divorced... we lost that, too."

"Brock, there are reasons we didn't work," Reba interjected. "You happen to be married to one of them."

Brock scoffed lightly. She had missed his point again. "I'm not talking about our marriage, Reba. I'm talking about our friendship. You're right, there are reasons our marriage didn't work, and they all came from me, I know that. I accept that. But, our friendship was the greatest thing in my life besides our kids... and we've lost that along the way." He shook his head sadly. "I just... want to get it back."

"I do, too, Brock. There really shouldn't be anythin' stoppin' us from movin' on and bein' friends again, but somethin' is. Somethin'... I don't know. Maybe it's still too soon. Maybe it's..." She shook her head. "I just don't know."

She really didn't. She had an idea, but she would never admit to it.

Brock nodded, not fully believing her, but not calling her on it either. She wasn't ready, but hell, he was. "I don't think it's too soon. I think you proved that by ordering me to stay here while I passed my stone." He angled his head so he could look into the eyes she cast on the table. "What is it, Reba? What's stoppin' you?"

"You. You and Barbara Jean. _Me_ and Barbara Jean. The kids. I'm just gettin' used to our lives bein' this way. Us bein' friends again... it's too..."

"I still love you, Reba," Brock interrupted her, knowing her rambling for what it was. She was hiding from the truth; somehow, he wasn't sure when, but he decided that he couldn't anymore. "We were married for twenty years, friends for even longer. I don't know where I'd be without you. And though it might be buried deep somewhere, you love me, too. That's what's stopping us. Or you, rather. The fact that we love each other?"

Unable to speak, she nodded. "Yes," she said after a moment. "Our friendship led to somethin' more the first time around... and it won't this time. I... I can't give myself false hope. I don't want to love you, but... twenty years... that'll never be erased. You're the father of my children. You're... _Brock_."

"And you're Reba. And when I needed you, you came through, and I can't thank you enough. I just want you to know that when you need me... I'll come through. Our marriage didn't last, Reba, but our friendship can. Can you at least try?"

Smiling, finally at peace with her feelings and thoughts, Reba nodded. "I can try, Brock. I can try."

She meant it. She would try... because, if anything, what he said was true. They were Brock and Reba Hart. Their marriage didn't last, but their friendship could. They would always be together. That was their destiny. And even she couldn't fight that.

**- End -**


End file.
